


The Libertines

by Anonymous



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abusive Behavior, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Asphyxiation, Bruising, Choking, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Forced Drug Use, Incest, Misogyny, Multi, Non-Consensual Bondage, Rape, Recreational Drug Use, Serial Killers, Sexual Assault, Unsafe Bondage, Unsafe Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The darker side of the earth's mightiest heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Libertines

**Author's Note:**

> **Please read the tags.** This story contains graphic violence, repeated mentions of rape, roleplayed rape, unsafe bondage, drug abuse, references to torture and murder, and portrayal of heroic characters as very dark, violent, narcissistic individuals. There's a reason this is posted anonymously.

Tony is a rich man, with a rich man's proclivities, and Thor is a prince; they have all the tastes and lack of limitations to them that privilege and money can buy. Steve and Clint aren't rich, but then, Steve was a soldier in a bloody war, and Clint fits the "serial killer" archetype like it was written for him: the dropout midwestern drifter who's really only good at violence. Natasha long ago dissociated herself from humanity at the hands of generals who needed child soldiers.

And Bruce, well, Brucie has rage issues. 

Steve, for all his training, isn't generally a violent man, except on orders from Natasha. Nobody really knows if he likes to watch or if he just doesn't care; he doesn't seem to enjoy violence, but then, he never hesitates, either. He's mostly just a really accepting bodyguard, and Tony thinks that's nice. He disposes of the occasional trash, and if a girl or boy that Tony brings home starts to cop an attitude, he's very good at restraints. More than once, Tony has bucked his way to orgasm between thighs held open by Steve's big, pale hands. The ones he can't intimidate or buy off after, he'll usually have Steve throw those to Clint and his needles and knives. 

Thor prefers drugs to sex -- for himself, of course, dreaming the day away with pot and pills, ramping himself up at night with a couple of bumps of coke and then coming back down with more pills. Once or twice Tony's had him when Thor was far too out of it to notice or care, brain gone on the pill of the moment but dick hard enough for Tony to ride. It's a special kind of violation, Tony told Steve once, getting off on someone who doesn't even know they're aroused. 

Natasha, like Clint, is into violence, and honestly, usually when Clint's working his magic, it's because she's telling him what to do. She dominates him completely, the same as she does Steve, but while Clint is insecure and always competing for her attention, Steve always gets more because he doesn't seem like he wants or needs anything. Clint would probably kill Steve if he didn't think Natasha would cut him off completely for it. 

Bruce just likes to watch. He says if he ever tried his hand at it he doesn't think he'd be able to stop, and they like him just as calm and quiet and vicious as he is. It'd be a terrible shame if Bruce got caught, so they keep him like a pet. Thor keeps him in opiates, which helps. 

Tonight they're at a club, kings (and queen) of the city, richer and prettier and cooler than anyone else there. Thor's found a set of handsome dark-haired twins, boys who can't be more than twenty-one, and Tony thinks before the night is over he'll get them to fuck each other. Thor loves that kind of kinky shit. Bruce is murmuring to a brunette in her twenties, playing her like a piano, finding every little insecurity and digging his fingers in, waiting for the moment he knows she'll never leave him until he gets what he wants from her and throws her aside. Natasha's letting Clint grind her on the dance floor. They're not looking for dates tonight. The brunette is probably a present for them. 

Tony's a little drunk, a little high, as he leans on Steve's shoulder and beams at him. "How come you never get laid, Steve?"

Steve gives him an indulgent look, but his eyes are flat. "How do you know I don't?" 

"Bet I'd hear her screaming if you did. Ohh, Steve, ohhh daddy," Tony groans, undulating against him, but it's not like anyone can hear them over the music, so Steve remains unimpressed.

"Maybe I like gags. Maybe I like boys."

"Do you?" Tony purrs. 

"What's it matter to you? You wanna watch me mount something, find me one, whatever," Steve says. It's very disappointing, how hard it is to get anything out of him, as tempting as it is to cull the herd and see if Steve'll put his dick where his mouth is. 

"Hey, I got some E," Tony tries, twiddling the bag between his fingers in his pocket. Steve never says yes, but Tony always offers. "You want some, soldier?" 

Steve looks sidelong at him, then turns to face him, one elbow on the bar. "Sure, why not."

Tony hides his surprise well. He clocks the others -- Clint and Natasha are still fucking with their clothes on, Bruce practically has the brunette's top off (she looks really uncomfortable, Tony loves it), and Thor's in a booth with his arms around the boys he's found, sharing a joint. 

"Come on," Steve says, sounding bored. "Dose me up and let's get out of here, or go find someone else to cuddle."

Tony grins and slips two pills out of his pocket, popping one into his mouth. He leans up and kisses Steve, biting down on his lip before he shoves the pill into his mouth with his tongue. Steve takes a sip of Tony's scotch to swallow with. Tony pops the second, repeats the kiss, and then downs what's left after Steve drinks again. 

"So where are we going, big guy?" he asks, as Clint and Natasha leave the dance floor and head to Bruce's booth. 

"Somewhere more private," Steve says, leading him towards the exit. By the time they get there, the limo's waiting; Steve tells Happy "Take the slow road home" and after about four blocks, he's already rolling hard, fascinated by the lights outside and the softness of his own clothes. Tony shucks his jacket and takes off his belt while Steve rubs his face all over Tony's neck and cheek.

"You smell amazing," Steve says, inhaling deep. 

"Kitten," Tony says affectionately, rubbing Steve's hair, and Steve moans, shedding his own shirt. 

"I got some coke from Thor," Steve says, letting Tony wrap the belt around his neck and slide the end through the buckle, a makeshift collar and leash (and if Steve's lucky, sex toy). "He said to give it to you."

"Yeah? Gimme," Tony orders, using it as a pretext to pat his pants all over. 

"Noo, I want you to do it off me," Steve says, hips pushing against Tony's hands. Tony grabs his dick on his way to grabbing the coke in his pocket. 

"Where did you even come from?" Tony asks, amused, but he turns Steve over and gets the rest of his clothes off, then puts him on his knees on the floor of the limo, broad, muscle-knotted shoulders spread wide, elbows on the upholstery. 

"I got tired of watching," Steve says, rubbing against the seat upholstery like it's silk. "Jesus, that E's good stuff."

"Just you wait," Tony says, running his hands up and down Steve's abs from behind, making Steve groan loudly. The privacy window is closed, but Happy's probably enjoying himself too right now. 

The catch in Steve's voice when he said "watching" pings something on Tony's radar, which is fine-tuned for sexual kink of all kinds. There's lube in a drawer next to the wet-bar in the limo, and Tony considers things while he rummages for it.

"What do you like watching, Steve?" he asks in Steve's ear, and Steve's whole body undulates. "Do you get off on holding them down for me? I can't ever tell. Or do you like taking them off to Clint after?"

He pushes a slick finger into Steve, who spreads his legs wider. 

"I like watching them," Steve says, as Tony opens him up.

"Oh. You want me to take you a little rough, baby?" Tony asks. "You want me to ignore you when you say no?" 

Steve nods against the fabric, hips shifting, fucking himself back on Tony's fingers. Tony had let go of his belt but now he grabs the tail of it, tightening the loop around Steve's throat and pulling him upright. Steve chokes, gasps for air, and whimpers with pleasure. 

Tony holds him there, head tipped, back arched and chest thrust out, breathing but not easily, hands gripping the seat, cock bobbing hard and untended between his legs, until he thinks he's got him open enough that it'll be nice for Tony, not quite open enough that it'll be nice for Steve. He lets him down eventually, releasing the leather so that he can clean off his hands and open the vial of coke. It's clumsy, but he gets a line out on Steve's shoulder, snuffs it up and then licks it, and Steve almost cries. 

The coke hits ten minutes later, when Tony's balls-deep in Steve and alternating between choking him with the belt and whispering in his ear that Steve wants this, he wouldn't be such an E-addled slut if he didn't, and he's lucky he's with Tony because he's high enough he'd let anyone fuck him. Steve whimpers and grunts and sometimes he says "Please, stop" and Tony doesn't. As soon as he feels that first brilliant rush, though, he does stop. He pulls out and shoves Steve around until he's lying on the limo seat, whining and writhing as he rubs his shoulders into it. 

Tony lays out a long second line from his navel up his abs, inhales it slowly and luxuriously, then kisses up the residue before shoving his tongue in Steve's mouth. It's hardly a taste, but it gives him an idea, and he kneels over Steve, ass on his chest, thighs almost choking him, dick pressed up against his chin. He taps out a little hill of coke onto the side of his hand and holds it under Steve's nose. It's an awkward angle, but not too bad. 

"Snort," he orders, and Steve turns his head, mumbling a denial. He grabs Steve's head, holds it still with a hand over his mouth, waits for him to exhale, and then presses his other hand to Steve's nose. Steve struggles for a minute against the instinct to breathe, but then he heaves in a breath through his nose, snorting it all up beautifully. Tony rubs the residue off his hand with his thumb, forcing it into Steve's mouth. Steve sucks, eyes closing, tongue swirling around the pad of Tony's thumb. 

Tony slides down his body to whisper in his ear, "I have more money than God and half of Congress in my pocket." He rolls their dicks together idly. "I own you, and if you object, I can make you disappear. Why not enjoy the ride, sweetie? It'll be good for me and good for you. Nothing you can do anyway."

Steve goes lax, chest heaving, and Tony lifts his legs so he can fuck back into him. He tightens the belt just a little, not enough to choke in this position, just enough to make sure Steve knows he's holding onto him, that the threat is there. 

He can tell the exact moment the coke hits Steve because he shudders all over and starts begging for it, for harder, for more, and now Tony tightens the belt. 

Steve's always been the calmest, the most together, and in some ways the best, though that's a very relative term when it comes to the six of them. Watching him roll through the E and into euphoria, with Tony's belt around his neck and his thighs around Tony's hips -- well, Tony is very good at manipulation. He knows how Steve got here, is pleased that he put Steve here, and this was the plan all along, anyway.

Steve chokes, but he doesn't even raise his hands to try and loosen the belt. His body starts to twitch, and then his eyes roll back and a look of such peace and pleasure crosses his face right before he comes, silent and breathless, and passes out.

Tony loosens the belt -- Natasha would rip him to pieces if he killed Steve -- and keeps going. At one point Steve makes a soft noise, a sort of _mmmhnh_ that might be a denial or might be a groan of pleasure, but he doesn't regain consciousness for a good five minutes. Tony starts snapping his hips roughly as Steve's eyes flutter open, and the look of shock and confusion on Steve's face tips him over into an orgasm right as the second line of coke starts to work. He comes and comes, filth pouring out of his mouth, until he falls over onto Steve, softening cock sliding out as he adjusts himself. Steve's pupils are huge, and even though he's soft he's still making delicious little orgasmic noises. 

They lie there for a while, twitching, giggling at each other, until Happy says, over the intercom, "Coming up on home, boss."

Steve pulls the belt off his neck -- it's already bruising -- and they fumble into their pants, but they leave the rest of the mess in the car. Tony drops off the baggie with the other three pills in it for Happy's pains, and then he herds Steve up to his suite, strips him down again and gets him on the bed, where Steve dreamily lets him take picture after picture of the bruises on his neck and his hips. About ten minutes later, when he starts to get it up again, Tony gets a delightful series of him with a hard-on and a ring of bruises and a high-as-a-kite smile. He sends the best one to Natasha. 

But he's done for the night, and Steve's dick isn't strictly speaking his problem, so he drifts off to sleep with Steve gently, luxuriously rubbing off against his ass. 

***

In the morning, Tony stumbles out to find Natasha making breakfast for a pair of dark-haired twins who won't make eye contact with each other. She's talking about how nice it must be to have a sibling, how important family is, how sacred, and as she makes innuendo after innuendo Tony can almost visibly see her twisting the "you just committed incest" knife. They must have put on a hell of a show for Thor. Clint is nowhere to be found but Bruce is in the corner, smoking a joint and watching the twins suffer. 

Steve is shirtless, leaning on the counter and drinking orange juice, the bruises on his neck now a beautiful vivid blue dappled with purple, like a watercolor. Tony kisses one of the bruises on his way to steal a drag off Bruce, and sits down next to the twins at the counter to reflect on how perfectly he loves his life.


End file.
